Stake Me
by BlackBird99
Summary: A 12 year old vampire boarding with the Salvatores. This is Dessire's life right now. She isn't even in High school yet, and she's having to deal with the concept of drinking blood and never growing to look older, never having people take her seriously after one glance and assuming that she's immature. It's allot for someone as young as her to bear, perhaps just too much…
1. The Inevitable

Author's note: I'm not sure of Dessire's backstory yet, but I have some ideas. I tend to write in segments, whatever comes to mind, which is usually just a scene or two. Then I work out all the details later. The other day I came up with this and decided I might upload it as my first entry. I'm going to continue and expand on Dessire's storyline. We might even get to see some of Damon's soft side as he acts as a fatherly figure to her. I know it sounds like a bit of a stretch, but how many of us even thought Damon had a soft side when his character first appeared? Hope you like it :)

Dessire's POV

I grasp the stake in my palms which are slick with sweat. I raise my hands and drop them, a tear rolling down my cheek. I keep losing courage and will. Frustrated with myself, I raise the stake to my chest once more, holding the tip firmly against my T-shirt, piercing the skin underneath. Closing my eyes, I tell myself that I have to do this. Then force the splintery piece of wood through the muscle over the area of my heart. I try to ignore the searing sensation, as If a flame had been planted into my chest. But before I can get to my heart, I feel a large hand on mine and the stake being yanked out from my chest. My eyes flip open, silently pleading his dark blue, determined gaze. His jet black hair looks like ink against the moonlight. His strength is unbelievable. Almost immediately, I give up my hold. I gasp as he yanks out the remaining 3 inches of wood and tosses it to the ground, now lost in the brush and the deep blue of midnight. Before I have time to protest, he grabs me by the waist and throws me over his shoulder. "Damon," I whine in a strained, high pitched voice. "Let go of Me!" I kick at his chest.

"Why, so you can go back there and pick up your pathetic little six inch stake and start over?"

"No! I mean yes, look, just, Just put me down!"

"No."

"It's my life, Damon," I say matter-of-factly.

"Yes, and _you_ are 12. _I _onthe other hand am 164. I think I know better than you at this point."

I sigh, "Damon, please. I- I just need-" Damon cuts me off.

"You _need_ blood. You need to feed"

"How would _you _know what I _need? _Blood is the problem." I scoff.

"Get over yourself," I can practically feel him rolling his eyes.

12 miles later, (only 20 minutes as Damon speed walks) he sets me down and looks at me expectantly.

I place my hands on my hips and say "I'm not going to run if that's what you think. I know you're much faster than me and it would be a complete waste of energy." But he just nods his head toward the tick plot of trees to his right. "Go catch a squirrel or something." Against all of my new instincts, I resist the urge to dart to the nearest fuzzy, warm blooded animal.

"You know, Blood doesn't fix everything. That's like saying pie can fix everything. Do you really think for humans that pie can fix any given problem, Damon?"

He looks me up and down, then shrugs. Where is this going?

"_You_ must have thought so," I can't believe him!

"Ugh. You are such a dick!"

" And you are a brat too immature for any other title," I can feel the blood rushing to my eyes in my state of contained rage. He simply smirks and throws me over his shoulder again.

Once in the mansion that now serves as my semi-eternal prison, Damon walks past Elena on the couch and into the kitchen. By now my elbows are propped up on Damon's back and I'm resting my chin in my hands. As she watches us descend into the next room with a bewildered and confused look on her face, I shoot her a raised eyebrow, challenging her to make a comment. Then Damon pulls out a chair at the table and throws me down into it. He leans down only inches from my face and says in that arrogant tone of his, "Stay." Then turning around and adding to Elena, "Take all of the stakes and vervain to my room; Baby Vamp is on a suicide mission," turning to me on that last note. I just scowl and cross my arms.

He walks over to the fridge and pulls out a blood bag, tossing it on the table in front of me. "Drink." He says, crossing his arms and waiting expectantly.

"No," I say bluntly.

"You haven't had any blood in three days, I will not let you starve yourself into a state of hibernation and desiccation, living on the border between life and death. You are a vampire; we drink blood, it's in our nature, it's what we do. Now _drink_." He says, emphasizing each and every word.

"Make me," I respond stubbornly, not really intending the challenge that comes with the two words, but regretting it seconds later when he sighs inwardly, un-folds his arms, and takes a few strides toward the table, hesitating as if giving me a two second window to change my mind.

"Everything is so difficult with you," then Damon swipes the bag into his hand and, using his teeth, tears the corner in one swift movement. I open my mouth to protest. Again, another mistake; Damon takes the opportunity, flashing behind me, using one hand to hold my jaw in place, the other shoving the torn corner of the bag into my mouth. I squeal and clamp down my teeth, but the crimson liquid still gets through and trickles down my throat. I grasp at his wrists, but they're immovable, set in their place like stone. It takes all my will to resist welcoming the honey like substance. I have to resist all of my natural urges and instincts, blocking out both smell and taste. I began to whimper, and by the time the bag is half way empty, A steady stream of tears roll down my cheeks. But despite my emotions, I can't resist the sweet taste any longer. I began to loosen my jaw, and I know Damon notices as his grip relaxes slightly. The tears stop as I feel the blood in my veins rushing, my fangs extending in unison. But I don't lunge out or grab the bag from Damon's hands. I just sit there, no longer protesting as he kneels behind me, pinching the bag, sliding his index finger and thumb along the plastic, leading the last few drops past my lips and onto my blood-coated tongue.

I choke on the warm air that rushes into my mouth as Damon gets up and tosses the empty plastic bag into the trash. Licking my lips as I push myself out of the chair, I turn and murmur, "Umm, I think I'm going to go find one of the spare rooms to sleep in." I gesture out the kitchen doorway.

"No," he says, his expression saying that he can't believe that the thought would even cross my mind. "You lost that privilege when you tried to kill yourself 40 minutes ago.

"What privilege?!" I say in disbelief myself.

"The privilege of your own room,"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Don't tell me you're going to lock me up in the basement," I say, with genuine worry in my voice.

"The thought crossed my mind," He shrugs, "But I settled for something else; you're going to like this one," he says smirking.

"you get to sleep with me." Raising his eyebrows in an intimidating look.

I swear just then I felt something, (Is it the small amount of hope I had left?) die inside me. And I can tell by his amused expression that he senses it, too.


	2. The Bitter Taste of Envy

Author's note: Wow, 53 views after one day of being posted. That's way more than I expected. Thanks guys! Special thanks to NightlyLexie and Tvdlover87654 for the awesome reviews. In this chapter, some of Dessire's backstory is revealed, including part of how she became a vampire. The rest will be revealed in segments in the following chapters. Enjoy :)

"You can't be serious," I said incredulously as Damon pulled me unwillingly up the polished, burgundy stairs.

"Oh, but I am." He replied, the smirk that was undoubtedly there showing strongly in his voice. I turn to escape down the stairs, wanting only to be alone, but his firm grip on my left wrist only tightens.

"Dessire," he says, cocking his head slightly. His now silvery-gray eyes fill with a somber warning, all amusement leaving his expression for a short few moments.

Those eyes amaze me. They can change perfectly to suit his every mood. I sigh, knowing I don't have a choice, and continue behind him.

When we get to his room, he places a steady hand on the brass handle, opening the door wide. Damon gestures inside, and, proving that his usual attitude has returned, says, "_Ladies First_." A sudden thought occurs to me. If Damon's going to act like a child, why shouldn't I? Before entering, I hesitated in the door frame, sticking my tongue out at him in a toddler-like fashion.

Lying on his silver-blue comforter was a pile of identical, 10-inch stakes sanded down to a perfectly smooth edge. I pick one up, knowing that he's watching me, and brush the tip of it with my index finger, sending a chill through my veins. I set the long piece of wood down on the pile. Would death really solve anything? Being a vampire, aren't I damned to hell?

I shift my attention to seven crystal vials filled with a clear liquid. Uncorking one, I carefully bring it to my nose and inhale. I have yet to experience the torturous effects of vervain. Wincing at the unforgiving, concentrated scent burning in my nostrils, I re-cork the vial and place it down softly next to the others.

I turn my back from the bed, trying to clear my mind, repressing questions that I'll never be able to answer.

Behind me, Damon gathers the supplies and carries them to his personal bathroom. I can here cabinets being opened and closed, and a lock being snapped shut. I sit on the edge of the mattress, unlacing my deep purple converse and placing them at the foot of the bed. I crawl on top of the covers. How many women have visited this room, this bed, in the past couple hundred years? Lucky them. They got to grow up, to experience things that I never will, I realize. How many years have I spent of my life, afternoons filled with dreaming of the day I'll meet that one person who will love me, who I'll go to all the high school parties with, get drunk and sneak off to find an unoccupied bedroom . Who will think of me until the minute he gets back from work and crawls into bed with me, who I'll share a beautiful wedding with and a sweet iridescent honeymoon, Who I'll have a family with, who will be in all my best memories, who I'll spend my last days with. All of this has been taken from me.

Tears of envy and desperation sting in my eyes, but I close my lids tight, forcing them back. I bury myself under the cool sheets. They smell like Damon, the bitter-sweet scent of bourbon mixed with a very light cologne that I can't quite place. It's a warm, comforting smell. I can here footsteps and know that Damon has emerged from the bathroom, now on his way out. Perching myself up on my elbows, I open my eyes and watch him as he stops in the doorway. Winking he says, "Sweet Dreams."

I let my head fall back down onto the pillows. I think back on my first day here, only a week ago. How I had woken up uneasily on a strange couch in a strange place, the glow of a low fire illuminating the unfamiliar, somber faces of Damon and Elena. They had been watching me, waiting for me to come to. They were immediately up and by my side. I was so frightened, I instinctively ran for the front door. Damon easily beat me, and I was so flustered. I remember wondering how he had done it when I had the head start. He had seemed to appear out of nowhere, one second I was reaching for the handle, the next he was in front of me. Of course, I know now how he was quick like that. But there was something else, something that right now I desperately need to remember. Even as Damon had held my arms, stopping me from attempting another escape, It wasn't a cruel action. It was more like he was trying to steady me, calm me in my state of panic. That was when I realized that I was safe here, with these two people. I knew that this man wasn't like the blonde vampire I now know as Klaus, who turned me only to cause trouble for Damon and Elena. And when I could no longer resist the tears swelling in my eyes, I had collapsed into his chest, so tired and confused. And even though I didn't know him at all yet, I was so grate full when he just held me there, hugging me too him, stroking my wavy auburn hair as I cried into his soft blue shirt.

But then there was something else there, the cravings, the hunger that became more apparent slowly and steadily as my tears dissolved and came to a stop. I didn't know it then, but I would need human blood, and the only alternative choice was death.

No. I wouldn't go there. I only wanted to remember the embrace. I so badly wanted to be held like that right now. I need compassion, affection. Something to hold onto. Right now I just need something steady and sure to give me the smallest bit of hope. A small piece of light and humanity.

Humanity.

The word echoes in my head as I drift into sleep simply because I do not wish to be awake any longer.


	3. Cruel Motives

Author's Note: Thank you for continuing to read. Sometimes I doubt my writing abilities, but reading what you awesome people say and seeing that you actually like to read what I write always assures me :) This chapter is a little slower and shorter than the other two,a nd I promise the next one will be more event full, this chapter was mainly for the flashback/dream. Wherewolves coming soon…

Also, I want to know what you guys think about a Damon or Elena POV. Let me know :)

Rain falls against the window of the car, producing a steady rhythm that beats against the inky deep blue of the night sky. Why am I not running, why do I just sit here? My hand instinctively goes up to the wound on my shoulder thrumming with pain. Did he do this to me? How? I keep my gaze low, and I don't dare to risk a glance at the composed figure next to me. I know I should be frightened, but my thoughts are strangely calm. A chill runs through me; I can sense my own pulse quickening as He turns his icy blue gaze on me, placing his cold fingers on my chin. He tilts my head upward so that my gaze is level with his. I cringe slightly at his bitter English accent. "Now Dessire, be a good girl. You will not disobey, and you will not say a word."

I barely manage a single nod, and his lips curve slightly, knowing he has the power to make me do whatever it is that he pleases.

He grabs me not-so-gently by the sheer violet blouse that he had dressed me in back at the hotel, pulling me out of the sleek black car behind him. He dragged me up stone steps to the door of a massive mansion. I watched as he rang the doorbell, then swiftly rolled up his sleeve. Grabbing me by my shoulders and pulling me up against his chest, he acted as if he owned me. This was all happening in a split second, and as he bit into his wrist and forced it into my mouth, I didn't really comprehend what was happening. Someone appeared in the doorway, and their expression immediately filled shock and disbelief at the sight that they were presented with. It was then when realization hit. I pictured what I must look like to him, the stranger with perfect dark hair and piercing blue eyes. A helpless, childish girl with lost brown eyes, my shoulder length hair damp and a mess from being pushed around by my blonde captor, being force fed blood from his wrist. The taste in my mouth was sickly sweet, like honey. I welcomed it with an open mouth, sucking it through the puncture wounds like cola through a straw. Why is my mind so numb. But something shone through the film that stopped me from thinking straight. I knew everything about this scene was so wrong, so unnatural, so fucked up in so many ways. I choked on the liquid running down my throat. Tears began to roll down my cheek as I stood there.

"Hello, Mate. It seems as though Stefan has failed to get the message across. **Stop Tracking Us**. But since Elena seems intent on bringing your brother back despite our several warnings, and you seem intent on pleasing her, I thought I might bring you a little something to keep you two lovebirds preoccupied."

What? What is he talking about?

There's something in the dark haired man's eyes,

Recognition.

I get a sickening sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Then my captor places his cold, cruel hands on my head, one under my chin, one on top of my damp auburn waves.

And then-

I gasp, bolting up and finding myself in Damon's bed. It was only a dream, I sigh in relief.

But,

It wasn't. It happened, only a couple of days ago. According to Damon, after Klaus snapped my neck, he carried me inside, bathed the blood, rain, mud and Klaus off of me with Elena's help. They got rid of the blouse and skirt that I arrived in, and put me into one of Damon's T-Shirts and a pair of his boxers until Elena could bring me some outfits that don't fit her anymore. Then they took me downstairs, laid me down on the couch and waited.

I push away the memory. It only generates questions that I can't answer. I lay back down and toss and turn until a restless sleep finds it's way to me.

I wake with a start, making a thud on the wooden floor and rolling an extra few feet.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" I shout, pushing myself off of the ground.

"You were on my side of the bed," Damon shrugs.

"So you push me halfway across the room?! And what fucking sides? That bed's way bigger than any damn king I've ever seen. You do not divide that," I point to the massive structure, "Into halves, _that_ is divided into fourths!"

His eyes go wide and he puts his hands up in surrender.

"Ugh," I storm past him heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" He questions.

I turn to face him momentarily.

"To a room without you in it." I say in an extremely irritated tone.

He flashes to my side.

"Dessire, _where are you going?"_ He says with genuine concern in his voice.

"Out," I respond, and adding "I don't know, The park, seven Eleven, _somewhere."_ In a exasperated tone when he gives me a stern look.

"That's good, go compel yourself some friends," he says finaly.

I scowl, giving him the finger before leaving.


	4. Detour

Author's Note: This chapter is a little longer than the others. I just really wanted to keep this all in one piece, not little segments. It made more sense to me to do it this way. Anyways, tell me what you think! :)

I managed to sneak past Elena, who was reading on the couch, and get out the door without being noticed. I needed to get away from this house, to clear my mind of anything related to this new world of blood for just a few moments. I need to press pause and take some time to simply breathe.

The breeze shuffling the crisp leaves in the oaks above my head would feel cool and bitter to a human, but to me it actually warms the thin skin on my bare arms as I walk through the hollow, dark streets. Where am I going? I have no clue. All I know is that it's away, and that is exactly where I want to be.

A sensation like white noise resonates in my head as my feet brush the worn concrete that I mindlessly continue on. I stop and look up to see where I've let my legs take me. A fluorescent street light illuminates a gas station on the poorer side of Mystic Falls, giving it a white-washed look. A few feet away, three pale faces with cigarettes in their large, dirt-embedded hands take notice of me. I narrow my eyes and shove my hands as deep as they'll go into my jean pockets.

"Look at this little princess," one says, pushing himself off of the wall. "In her designer clothes."

He pauses to take a mocking gasp, "Is that the new Calvin Klein blouse?" The other two laugh in unison.

"Fuck off," I turn to go inside.

I let the door swing closed behind me. When I turn, I'm immediately faced with a boy, about fourteen years old. In the flickering, yellow tainted light of the store, I examine his features. He has a dark complexion and black curls that rest loosely around his head. His green eyes are soft and warm.

"Were they bothering you?" He cocked his head out the window toward the three boys who had resumed smoking. I glanced at them quickly before responding.

"No, I'm fine. Why?" my brows furrowed in confusion as to why he would even care.

He shrugged, "They like to cause trouble. The one that was talking to you is my step brother. He's older by two years, but I always end up having to drag him out of gang fights, drug deals, that kind of stuff." He says tiredly.

I nod, not knowing how else to respond. After a moment, he asks, an expression of curiosity on his face, "What's your name?"

"Dessire,"

"Well Dessire, my brother and I come here allot. At home things are kind of a mess; Dead beat dad, abusive mother, typical fucked up childhood story. Stores that stay open 24 hours a day are a convenient place to escape to. But you, I've never seen you around here before. What's your excuse?" He asks.

I was taken aback at how bluntly he described the facts of his life without hesitation.

"Umm, It's complicated. There's just so much at home that triggers unwelcome thoughts and emotions." The word home sounds hollow and meaningless on my lips.

He simply nods his head, like he totally gets it. I suddenly feel like I can completely relate to this person that I barely know, although I'm sure that my problems are allot more complex than his.

"Well, I told you my name, now what's yours?" I ask him.

"Ryan," he responds just as his brother and the two other boys push through the glass doors, their sickly laughter ringing in my ears.

Ryan turns to face them, annoyance clear in his voice, "What?"

His brother responds in a hard tone, " I want to leave,"

Ryan sighs, and I can see in his deep sea green eyes that he hates having to deal with this immaturity, but wants to avoid making a scene out of things.

No. Ryan is the perfect distraction, and I can't lose that.

As he's turning to follow the three out, I shout, "Wait," mentally cringing at how childish my voice sounded, high pitched and desperate.

When they all turn to face me, I almost regret speaking up.

"Umm, can I come with you?" I hold my breath, waiting for an answer. Ryan looks at me with a weary, questioning expression.

"How old are you?" he asks carefully. The others looked amused.

"Twelve," I say uneasily. Ryan looks genuinely surprised.

"You look at least two years older,"

"Really? That's. . . Reassuring," and I mean it, what with being stuck like this for eternity and all.

Ryan looks unsure, but the others continue urging him on. And even though thinking about their intentions makes me nervous, I really want this. Besides, I'm sure I could protect myself if they tried anything.

"Come on, Ryan, we can't just leave the poor girl here by herself. Who knows what'll happen to her?" says one of the boys, his lopsided smirk twitching as he talks. I'm more than sure he's stoned. All three of them are probably stoned.

"Yeah, Rye, it's not safe." Says his brother.

Ryan looks exasperated. "Fine," he says to the group, but when he turns toward me, his eyes are filled with concern. This expression quickly fades, and I shoot him a small smile before we head out.

After we walk about two blocks, we stop in front of a small, one floored house. You can tell that it was once was a nice sky blue color, but now it's faded and almost all of the paint has peeled off. Along the walk, I picked up the names of Ryan's brother and the other two. Ryan's brother's name is Joseph, and his friend with a dirty blonde mohawk is Erin. The other friend's name is Gabe. He makes me nervous. His dark brown eyes almost appear black, and they keep darting to me from under his messy, long brown hair, his expression filled with a cold lust. Gabe does this once more and I avert my gaze to Joseph who stands in front of a dim window in desperate need of cleaning. He raises his fists and begins banging on the glass.

"Alicia, let us in." he shouts into the house. Seconds later, I hear the sliding of a lock and a girl with light skin, freckles, and long, straight light brown hair. She eyes me cautiously.

"You brought a new friend?" she raises her eye brows at Ryan.

"She wanted to come," he responds quickly.

She looks unsure, but opens the door anyway. "Miranda and Jeff aren't home. They went to the bar. Shouldn't be back for two hours." I'm assuming those are the parents, and I couldn't bring myself to ask after hearing Ryan's description of them.

"Great," Joseph said, a wicked grin on his lips, "We finally have two girls over Ryan,' He continued teasingly. "let's play spin the bottle."

I glance around the room. Alicia rolls her eyes and Ryan's shaking his head, but Joseph and his friends are extremely amused. Erin looks at me and says,

"Come on, you're the house guest," he pauses before adding in a cruel tone, "You have to."

"Uhh," I start, but before I can say anything more I'm being pulled down onto the grungy dark blue carpet as the rest of them continue to form the circle. Ryan groans like he really doesn't want to be doing this. I get the feeling that if Joseph doesn't get what he wants, he makes sure no one else is happy either. I feel bad for Ryan, always having to keep Joseph pleased just so that he won't explode and make his life hell. But the fear that I have of what Joseph might to if _not_ pleased overpowers that sympathy. Alicia, who seems to get pushed around allot because she's younger, and, well, she's a girl in this house full of males, is sent to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle. I take a moment to think about how old they all are. Ryan looks fourteen, which would make Joseph and his friends sixteen. Alicia looks about thirteen, but it's hard to tell.

She reappears with the clear glass bottle of a wine cooler, taking one last swig and finishing it off before setting it in the center of our small circle. Erin went first, and the bottle landed on Alicia. When she merely kneeled over and gave him a quick, 2-second peck on the cheek, he pouted, but we moved on.

It was Gabe's turn, and I swallowed nervously. My breath quickened, a wave of nausea coming over me as I watched the bottle go around and around the circle. And on the fourth spin, I feel my face flush as it stops, directly pointing to me. I sit there not making the slightest movement, waiting for him to lean forward and intrude my lips with his. My eyes remain on the bottle as he moves toward me. I don't look up even as he pushes his dry, cracked lips hard against mine. He begins to force my lips apart with his mouth, and I can taste the smoke left with him from his cigarette at the gas station. His hot breath lingers on my tongue, and it's just too much to tolerate.

I shove him back, cringing away from the spot where he kneels.

"I can't," I say hurriedly, pushing myself up and flashing out the door.

Once outside, I sucked the clean air through my mouth, thankful that it seemed to take the taste of smoke away when I exhaled.

I stopped in front of the house and sat down on the curb, slightly off to the right so that I was out of view of the door and window.

I suddenly realized the mistake that I had made. No human can run out like that with that kind of speed. But I didn't really care. I'll let them come up with their own excuses.

Who knows? Maybe they'll assume that they're mentally unstable and check themselves into an institution.

Doubt it.

They'll probably just blame it on drugs or alcohol. Well, Erin, Gabe and Joseph probably will, anyways.

I sigh, burying my head in my hands.

Where to go.

What to do.

These questions burned in my mind. Was there anywhere that I could simply be at ease tonight?

I froze when I heard heavy footsteps behind me. And then, just like that, Gabe was pulling me up from the concrete with one large hand roughly gripping each of my upper arms. I could see in his cold, firm eyes that he was determined to finish what he had started inside.

Then his hot lips were on me again, but he didn't stop at my mouth. He continued down and along my jaw line.

I started to panic when I couldn't push him off. He's stronger than me.

But,

That isn't possible.

His breath was at my neck,

And Then,

Then…

I felt two sharp, simultaneous stings.

All air left my lungs and my heart stopped. I looked up at him with wide eyes.

"You bit me," I stated in a shocked whisper.


	5. Consequence

Author's Note: Okay, so personally, I think this chapter is a little stale. It's one of those ones that you have to write as a transition, but you're not as psyched about it as others. But please, please, please keep reading! I promise the following chapters will be great, but it's imperative that you keep reading for me to write more. I know it took me forever to write this chapter. Like I said, I wasn't as psyched about it and that led to a little writers block. I apologize for the delay/wait. Also, I know the part about Klaus having Hybrid's in town to keep a look out isn't exactly following the storyline and order of events, but just go with it. It is my story after all… ;)

Damon's heavy footsteps echo through the mansion as he comes down the stairs. Frustrated, he shouts into the living room, "Where the Hell is Dessire? I've called her 3 times, and she's not picking up."

Elena gets up from the couch, confused. "What do you mean? I thought she was with you." Damon shakes his head; Sometimes Elena being the only human around is very inconvenient.

"She left like three hours ago," he grabs his phone from out from the pocket of his dark jeans. "The sun will be up in 40 minutes and she doesn't have a daylight ring. Dammit," he says before grabbing his keys and sleek, black leather jacket off of a table in the hall. He briefly stops by the door, turning to say "Stay here, and don't do anything stupid."

"Damon," Elena starts, but he's already left and she can hear the purr of an engine in the driveway.

She's left alone with her arms crossed over her chest, staring into the inky, blue-black sky through the open door, Once again clueless as to the strange bond forming between Damon and Dessire. Maybe even a little jealous…

But, that's stupid, right?

She's just a helpless little girl who's victim to Klaus, like so many others, who needs guidance.

Damon's offering up that guidance, which is good.

Still, ever since Klaus delivered her to the Salvatore's doorstep, Damon has been spending less and less time with Elena…

My back pocket vibrates, and Gabe flashes behind me. He swiftly slips his thumb and index finger between the denim and pulls out the black phone, white moonlight shining off of the brand new, perfect condition surface. I cringe and stare as he throws it to the asphalt in the drive way with such force that the case shatters into many shards, and the metal beneath the surface breaks into silver chunks and pieces. Amidst all these new sensations and emotions since I had woken, no longer human, I had been ecstatic when Damon had taken the time to buy me a phone, and at the normalcy of it. Now I had lost that, too.

Gabe had yet to grab ahold of me again. He just stood there, watching me, waiting. I knew that he would probably just stop me, but I couldn't just stand there. So I ran to the other side of the street, pulling the collar of my shirt up to shield the stinging wound on my neck from the irritating grit and dirt in the breeze.

I could sense that he was behind me, and then my head was being slammed against a steel light pole. I fell to the pavement, scraping my hands and shins. I refused to look up at him. I could feel the brush of Gabe's hands as he began unbuttoning my shirt. I closed my eyes; strength was one of the few advantages of being a vampire, but right now I don't even seem to have that.

Suddenly the weight of Gabe is being lifted off of me. I squint into the early morning dark to see Damon looking really tired and pissed, holding Gabe by the top of his shirt. Damon throws him down onto the concrete. Then he kneels down beside him.

I prop myself up on my elbows. What's he doing?

Damon plunges his fist into Gabe's chest. It makes a horrible ripping sound as his bare hand tears through skin and muscle. He twists his wrist and yanks something out of the pool of dark, sticky liquid. Damon is rigidly grasping what looks like the purple heart of a beginning drug-user.

"That is fucking disgusting,"

"Glad you're not traumatized" Damon says breathlessly, finally looking in my direction. He was standing now.

"You underestimate me," I say, when really I'm just trying to train myself not to be disturbed by the sight of blood. I tilt my head at his hand and adding "So what exactly to you plan to do with that?"

Glancing at his hand, then back at me on the ground, he shrugged and threw it over his shoulder.

"Whatever," I sighed, shaking my head. I wouldn't want to be the person to find that later this morning.

I pushed myself off of the pavement. Damon's brow furrowed as he looked down at Gabe's body. I buttoned my shirt back up as Damon carried it over to the trunk of his car a few paces away. Later he was probably going to take it out to the forest and burn it.

Damon circled back around to the front of his car and gestured for me to get in. I watched as he used his clean hand to pull a scarf out from the glove box and use it as a barrier between the steering wheel and his gore covered hand.

The ride back to the house was awkward. There was absolute, rigid silence between the two of us and I could feel the tension as if it was a physical thing that vibrated through the stuffy air in the car. I felt like I had to say something. The words burned in my throat until I couldn't keep them in any longer and I finally blurted out "Thank You."

Damon just nodded, squeezing his eyes shut like he was extremely frustrated with something but he refused to show it. I got a feeling that that something was me.

Once we were back in the house, Damon turned to face me. He pointed to their crimson couch and demanded sternly "Sit."

I did as I was told, preparing myself for a lecture. He did just save my ass from being molested and possibly killed. Just then I realized that Damon and Elena had pretty much adopted me, or were at least fostering me until I can manage being a blood-sucking 12 year old on my own.

He paced back and forth before me. In his hand he still held the scarf, and with the other he was pinching the bridge of his nose. Then Damon hit me with a blow that I was definitely not expecting.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" I backed as far as I could into the couch cushion.

"I'm not even going to ask how you ended up there, but that kid you were with? He was a God Damn Hybrid. Klaus came back a month ago and dropped some of them off to watch over the town and report back to him. Do you know what a Hybrid is capable of? Do you know what purpose they serve, what they're good for?! Killing Vampires. What if you had been bitten, Dessire? I would have to sit here and watch you die a slow, painful, excruciating death. I don't need that on my conscience. And believe me, it's not pretty."

My head's spinning from the sudden bomb of information. My hand raises to my neck where Gabe had bitten me, but Damon doesn't seem to notice as he continues to shout.

"You grow so weak that you can barely get out of bed. Blood won't help, it'll just come right back up. Fever and Nausea. Then you start to hallucinate. You try to hurt those you love; Re-living memories that you wish you could just forget,"

A pang of longing hits me then. Damon's expression quickly changes to a softer, sympathetic look as he realizes what he's just said.

"I'm sorry, I know you can't remember, I didn't-"

"Damon," I cut him off in a horrified whisper.

"I know Klaus compelled you to forget, but-"

"DAMON," I say louder this time. It's then that he finally takes notice of the blood seeping through the collar of my shirt. All life and expression drains from his face and he stares in disbelief.


	6. Realization

Author's Note : Yes! We finally have TVD back in season four! Only two episodes in, we have mostly gotten Stelena scenes, but the two main Delena scenes were amazing! Everyone knows which two I'm talking about right? When she remembers what Damon compelled her to forget and when she fed on him? I still think Damon is seriously underappreciated though. Anywayz, here is chapter six. I'm currently working on the first chapter of another story right now, so that's why it took so long. Please review, I was experimenting with a Damon POV, please tell me what you think! It doesn't exactly resemble Damon's snarky attitude, but that's because there is so much more to him than just that.

"No," I shake my head frantically, desperately trying to convince myself that it was a lie. A sick attempt at scaring me from ever running off again.

"Tell me that's not true. Damon say something!" I scream at him in a raspy voice. But he just stands there, paralyzed, staring blankly at the wound on my neck. Why won't he say something?!

I can feel my eyes began to burn as cool tears pour out, contrasting drastically with my cheeks, which are heated with frustration and anger.

I get to my feet. Putting both of my hands on him, I shove as hard as I can, "Don't do that! Don't just stand there!"

He doesn't budge, and I can feel the slow rise of his hard, steady chest as he inhales a single deep breathe.

"Dessire," he says in a low tone that sounds like he's struggling to keep calm. His gaze has come to a rest on no particular part of the lush, elaborate carpet on the wooden floor. " go upstairs, _please_." His voice wavers on that last word.

I take a step back. Did he really just say that? How could he just expect me to walk upstairs like nothing had really happened, follow his orders without question, and above all do it CALMLY?!

Hadn't he just described what is to be my death in detail?

Damon POV

She looked at me with those helpless little brown eyes, so full of confusion and ruined innocence. God, why does she keep doing that to me?! She looked so hurt and…

Betrayed. Had I betrayed her? How? By not answering her questions? By not giving her the straight up truth, expecting her to just walk away and let the adults handle this situation that revolved around her?

Dessire will never be one of the adults though, this all she'll ever be. And she's gone through all the same things that we have, she just wants to be treated equally.

But what does she expect me to do?! Just stand here and continue to tell her about her death, how it's already final, that there's no way out of it? How can she expect me to do that?!

Everbody expects something from me now.

I can't just continue to be everyone's hero, saving them from decision after stupid decision. It's to the point where they just expect it from me. And I'm fucking tired of it.

Dessire POV

I am so tired of all of this! I haven't been able to get a break at all this week. I just feel like I'm going to explode! My hands are shaking in equal parts fear and anger for what's already happened and what's to happen, and I just have to do something. I can't just be calm. I turn away from Damon and flash over to his table covered in various glass bottles of bourbon that have been aging for some hundred years. I didn't think, Just in that instant I wanted to hurt Damon, even if it merely meant taking away his old, expensive hard-to-get alcohol. In one impulsive motion, I pushed the whole table over. I didn't stop to see Damon's reaction, I just flashed upstairs in the chorus of glass shattering and the thud of wooden table meeting wooden floor.

Later that afternoon, I was in Damon's bathroom, leaning over the sink with my elbows on the counter top, looking at myself in the mirror as I ruined my mascara, watching as the black tear streaks trailed over my cheeks. I saw Damon appear at the door frame in the mirror. I don't know why I coughed to cover up my sobs, he had no doubt heard me, and even if he hadn't, my raccoon eyes would obviously sell me out.

Damon POV

Jesus Christ, she's crying. I can't do this, I don't know how. I've never dealt with kids before.

"What do you want?" she asks, false anger diluting her voice trying to mask the hurt. I can't help but let a small smile cross my lips. I know that trick all too well.

"Don't sound so upset, you just wasted half of my best bourbon."

"Really? You're going to try and talk to me about your precious alcohol right now?" Dessire scoffs. She turns away from the mirror to look at me and crosses her arms over her chest.

I sigh and let my gaze fall to the floor. Stefan would be so much better at this.

" Dessire, you're going to be fine. Elena's friend Bonny, she's a witch. She'll be here in an hour, she might be able to help us."

"That's a god damn lie and you know it," Dessire's lips trembled as she spoke the words. And as much as I knew she was right, I couldn't say that to her face. God, she's so vulnerable. I took a few steps toward her.

" Dessire, I've survived a where wolf bite. Caroline, Elena's friend, has survived a hybrid bite,"

I let out a bitter laugh before adding,

"In Mystic Falls, we always seem to find a loop hole, no matter how drastic."

I search her face for something, a reaction.

"Why do you even care Damon?" She looks up at me and her eyes say

_Why bother with me when you have much more important things to deal with? Why not just kill me, or drop me in the middle of the woods and walk away? Wouldn't that be easier than this? _

My breathe catches.

Images play over in my mind like a movie.

Katherine laughing so freely, that smile of hers, those dancing eyes that would enchant me when I was still human. But then there's a different Katherine in my mind. No, just the true bitchy Katherine who would play me and my brother over and over. Saying those words that stung like acid, "It was always Stefan."

Stefan. Ahh Stefan.

Who've I've lost so many times before.

To Katherine, To Vampirism, To my own anger, To the Blood, And now to Klaus.

I just wish we were back where we started; Playing a care free game of football, doing human things that brothers should do.

But if I ever do get him back, I'll just lose him again to Elena.

Elena. Elena in all her doppelgänger glory.

Dammit Dessire. How does a 12 year old have the power to force me to face my emotions?

"Because I know what it's like to have no one," I whisper.


	7. Flicker

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Might I suggest for the guest reviews that you use a name or a tag (a few examples: #bubbles #somerhalic #TVDaddict) so that I know if it's the same person or from different people? =)

Damon POV:

It's kind of funny. The thing that brings us close is what makes us completely and utterly different.

Dessire can't remember anything before Klaus.

If she had siblings.

Who her parents were.

If she was popular or a loner.

When her own birthday is.

She only remembers her name and her own age.

I can see it in her eyes; she would give anything for a small piece of her past.

But I am haunted by my memories.

Dessire POV:

We just stood there, looking at each other for a few minutes. His somber blue eyes told me that I had broken down a wall and stirred what lied beneath the surface. But this Damon seemed so broken, and I don't think either of us knew what to do. So we just stood there.

The silence was shattered when the door creaked. We both turned to see Elena and another girl who I've never seen before. She had a dark complexion, and long, soft bouncy curls. She looked at me with an expression full of pain and it was making me uncomfortable.

"Umm, Dessire, this is Bonny," Damon spoke up. So this is the witch who despises this supernatural life the most out of all Mystic Fall's residents. No wonder she was looking at me like that. She pities me, thinks someone so young should never have been brought into this, especially if they didn't have to be.

_My life lies in her hands,_

I think, and it makes me extremely uneasy.

"So you're the one who's supposed to conjure up a miracle from your spell books to keep me alive."

"Yeah, I guess so," she says in a soft voice. And what else is there really to say? It's not like she's going to try and tell me some lie about how it's all going to be fine, that I'm going to be just fine.

"So, How do we do this?" We were down in the living room, Damon was sitting next to me on the couch and Bonny and Elena were across from us. When a few moments of silence followed my question, I added, a little more harshly than I intended,

"What exactly are we doing? Because right now it seems like you're all just as clueless as I am."

Elena and Bonny looked down, and Damon gave me a quick shoulder squeeze. I think it was supposed to be reassuring, but really it was probably mostly for his own nerves and only made me want to turn around and hit him.

Bonny leaned over the arm of the couch and grabbed a green velvet shoulder bag and pulled out a large book with a very worn leather cover. The paper looked ancient and yellowing with soft, torn edges.

"I brought a few grimoires to look through, there might be a spell or something that I can use."

"Yeah, well, you look through your witchy cook books for something helpful. I'm hungry," Damon said. As he got up, we pulled me by my wrist along with him.

Damon had dragged me to the Mystic Grill. He finally stopped walking and turned to me when we were standing out in dimmed early night around the back of the Grill.

"What are we doing here," I asked in a tired and confused voice. "I look like crap and I thought you said you were hungry. As in grab a blood bag, quick snack hungry."

"You're dying Dessire," He said, not shying away from stating the truth.

"It's imperative that you drink from the vein, it'll make you twice as strong than your main source of nourishment being a blood bag, and buy us some time. Right now we can't afford for you to be weak." He said in all seriousness. My mouth opened but no words came out. I didn't believe what was coming from Damon's lips.

"Are you ask- Are you asking me to- No, Damon, I can't. I can't do that." I stammered.

"Not asking you. Telling you." He said, his tone and expression not wavering at all.

"I- I've never done this before. Damon, please, just please don't make me do this." I'm begging him, on the verge of tears.

"I'm going to help you," he says calmly.

Then his eyes grow blood shot and the veins underneath pulse an alarming shade of red.

Even though I should be used to it by now, I don't like this Damon.

Savage, Hungry Damon. This Damon scares me.

"No, Damon, Stop it. Stop It!" I shout, hot tears pouring out of me. He ignores my pleading and grabs the next person to pass by.

A boy, about 15 with a short black emo hair cut in a grey hoodie and jeans. He had ear buds in and was listening to something on his I-Pod.

Coming up behind him, Damon muffles the boy with one hand over his mouth and does something with his other that seems to paralyze him. I take in a quick, shallow gasp as Damon pulls back the hood, revealing his tender neck. The steady rise and dip of skin against his pulse is hypnotic.

Damon breaks me out of my trance when he takes a quick bite, pulling back almost immediately. He pulls the boy back over to where I stood. But when he looked at me, His expression was soft and kind.

"I know that you don't want to, but you have to." He said, pleading with his eyes.

Damon POV:

_Please, just drink. _

I didn't want to hurt her, but I didn't want her to die. Fucking Klaus. No one should have to go through this, but did he really have to do this to a kid as young as this? God, she had her whole life to figure out, a whole future that she barely got to touch. So many possibilities just ripped away, to be replace with _this_. I would do anything to get it all back for her, but I can't. It's just not possible. But right now I can save her from dying _again_. And I'm going to do every god damn thing that I can to make sure that I can help her make as much of this life as she can. And Right now, I just really need her to _drink_.

Dessire POV:

I can tell by his expression that this isn't something that he wants for me to do, and he wouldn't be making me unless I had to do for the sake of my own life.

I looked down at the wound and sucked air in through my teeth. I could feel a burning sensation in my gums. My body craved the sticky, crimson liquid that would slide across my tongue and down my throat like a silk ribbon.

Damon held out his free hand. I took it, squeezed my eyes shut, and gave in.

Damon POV:

I held out my hand to her. Dessire craved affection of any kind, she felt starved of it, lonely. I knew the gesture would mean the world to her, and as she drank she held to it like a life line.

Damon had leaned us up against the back of the building. To anyone who happened to walk by we would look like a family huddled up in an awkward group hug. After a few minutes he said that I could stop. I snapped my head back away from the body the minute I heard the words, and Damon murmured something about me having a surprising amount of control. I am repulsed by the thought of someone else's blood entering my system, and in the end that overpowered by any blood lust that would come over me.

He bit into his wrist and thrust it into the boy's mouth. But when he regained conscious, Damon brought him over to me.

Damon POV:

What better time than know to teach her how about the perks of being a vampire? Dessire looked utterly confused and shocked when I walked over to her with the kid.

Dessire POV:

"You know, there are some advantages that come with being a vampire."

I just stare at him blankly. Yeah, I know. You can run fast and you don't die. Wooh Hoo! Let's Celebrate! It's totally worth drinking blood for the rest of eternity!

"What do you mean?" Is all I say.

He turns the boy to face me. The boy looked so flustered, his grey eyes dancing in a blurr of confusion. I felt a blow of guilt and sympathy hit me in the stomach just then. He was a victim, just like me. But this time, I was the predator.

"You can make him forget, you have that power. He doesn't have to be haunted by this for the rest of his life."

"What?! Damon, what are you talking about?" I ask, my glance darting from in between Damon and the boy.

"Just repeat after me. Look directly at him the entire time."

"Okay?" I nod, doubtful of the words coming out of Damon's mouth and still utterly confused.

"All you remember is that you were walking by the Grill, none of this actually happened."

I parrot the words in a lulling, droll tone.

I tilt my head in awe at his pupils, dilating as the words leave my lips.

"Don't take off your hood around people until this wound heals," Damon continues.

I repeat the instructions and stare in disbelief at my handiwork. The boy just stands there, in a numb, calm daze. Damon then pats him on the back and sends him off in the direction he was walking.

Damon starts walking back in the direction of his car.

"Wait, what just happened?" I asked in an incredulous voice.

He turned to me with a smug look and that trademark smirk of his.

"You compelled him, he was under the will of your words."

"Dude, seriously?"

Damon raises his eyebrows at me,

"Like, Dude, Totally!" he mocked me in an arrogant and cocky tone. I ignored him and smiled at myself. For once, I was actually in control.

Maybe this wasn't all so bad.


	8. Dream Laced Reality

Author's Note: Frat Party blood bath ;) I can't wait for next Thursday! Anywayz, huge thank you to all the new people following and reviewing my story! And my dearest best friend, I am sorry if you sometimes get bored with my story. Some of my chapters appeal more to those who are a part of the TVD family and fans of the show. P.S. I wrote this while I was really tired but couldn't sleep so sorry if some parts are kind of sucky or confusing. There is a link on my profile page to the kind of crimson tree that I'm talking about and if you've never seen ian in a muscle shirt, I recommend that you Google it.

When we came in the front door, I was, for the first time this week, kind of happy. It was a strange static feeling that flowed through me, and my fingertips were tingling for something to do. I was completely oblivious to the dim mood that had set over the house with Witchy flipping through pages, a hard expression on her face and Elena sitting by one of the windows, staring blankly out into the dark, a glass half filled with vodka, which couldn't be a good sign. Elena wasn't one that struck me as someone who drank often.

"I take it you haven't found anything," Damon broke my train of thought, addressing Bonny.

Both girls turn their gazes on us, apparently they hadn't noticed our return.

"Wow, Dessire. You look… Happy" Elena said. I can hear Damon's humorous laughter behind me. It's expected that she would point something out, I'm sure It must be a really big change from my normal appearance. I sure as Hell feel a whole lot different.

Damon explains for me "She compelled someone,"

"Hmm," is all that she says before turning back to staring out the window. God, she looks exhausted.

Damon grabs my upper arm and begins to pull me up the stairs.

"Wait Damon, I don't wanna just go and sleep or sit around. I wanna do something."

"Well you're just on a feel good high, aren't you?" he said. But he wasn't having it.

"Common," Damon said, nodding upstairs.

"Nooo," I say, pulling back and letting a pout pull at my lips. I give him my best lost puppy eyes and wait expectantly.

He crossed his arms and cocks his head at me. "Pity doesn't work on vampires."

I just tilt my head and stand there, "Please…"

"Fine," he rolls his eyes and turns swiftly, walking off towards the back of the mansion. I smile triumphantly at my achievement of breaking down the rock hard Mr. Salvatore.

We end up in a room filled with exercise equipment, a bench press next to a stack of weights, a punching bag, a treadmill, and various strength building devices. There's a yoga station in the corner which I only assume is used by Elena. I giggle, picturing Damon in an elegant yoga position, "surrounding himself with positive energy," and "becoming one with his body, mind and soul."

"What?" he turns around to face me.

"Nothing," I say, still grinning.

He dismisses it and walks over to a something that you wouldn't find in a normal gym. A table, covered in various wooden daggers, vervain tranquillizers, huge cross bows, and other such vampire torture devices.

"You are a 12 year old vampire, a likely target. Now, we can change that. There are people that want us dead, Dessire. Vampire hunters and other vampires. You were dragged into the supernatural world in the middle of a war. Being the weakest link, you need to be prepared to defend yourself."

I nod, and he continues.

"We'll train you to use a dagger later. They're small and can be conveniently concealed on your body for whenever you might need one. Right now I want to see how much weight you can, lift, get an idea of the scale of your strength."

Damon gestures to the bench press and I reluctantly lie down. There are already 25 lb. disks placed on either side.

"You should be able to lift 50 lbs. easy," He said.

I place my hands on the bar. He's right, I can hold the weight up with absolutely no struggle.

Damon doesn't say anything, just adds 10 lbs. to each side. I try to lift it. This time, my arms aren't as steady and tremble a little, but it isn't difficult.

Then Damon adds 20 lbs. to each side and looks at me expectantly. I take a deep breathe and place unsure hands on the metal bar once more. The muscles in my arms burn and I can barely lift it. I'm about to place it back down and give my arms a break when Damon says

"Hold it,"

"Seriously?" I grunt. My arms are trembling and beads of cool sweat line my fore head. I squeeze my eyes shut in frustration. I think the weights are going to fall on my chest and crush me. Of course, they couldn't kill me, just leave me struggling and breathless with a really, really bad bruise that disappears within seconds.

My fingers start to slip, and then, unbelievably someone forces the bar down against my efforts.

"Damon," I growl, the bar inches from my chest.

"When fighting a vampire, just having strength isn't enough. You have to be able to use it, you have to be stronger than them. Your force has to win over theirs."

I try to keep the bar from falling on me _and _listen to Damon, which is an extremely difficult task.

I can't hold it any longer, my arms drop to my sides and I let in an exasperated gasp, expecting the bar to hit me with a painful blow. But it doesn't. I look up to see Damon, placing the bar back to rest in it's metal crevice.

"110 pounds, I can work with that."

He walks around to help me up. I take his extended hand, but once I'm up, I place a punch in the center of his hard stomach.

"You douche, I thought I was gonna get crushed!" He ignores me and throws aside his jacket before taking my place on the bench press.

I go to turn on the stereo in the back of the room. The song that is on when I do is "S&M" Hmm, didn't expect this to be Damon's music choice, must be Elena again. I decide just to leave it on for my own amusement.

I walk over to the punching bag and hit it with a few blows, only giving it half of my effort. My attention is on Damon. He's wearing a white muscle shirt that hugs his abdomen tightly and perfectly outlines the flawless features of his flat muscled chest. I watch as the muscles in his arms flex, so sexy. Not too muscular to where he just takes up extra space and it's extremely awkward when you hug him, but the muscles are definitely there. And His hair is a glorious raven black mess.

_God, please take off your shirt. _

"Who the fuck writes the lyrics for these songs? They're trash. Your generation doesn't know the definition of good music. This is just cheap crap. I miss when the Beatles were popular."

"They still are," I say.

"Yeah, but do you ever hear them on the radio in place of this?"

"Just go change the station," I say, rolling my eyes despite the fact that I find this annoyed Damon adorable.

I'm about to begin actually punching, channeling the frustration that has been building up for the past few days when a fit of coughing hits, leaving me with a very raw throat, kneeling on the ground and leaning on the punching bag for support.

Damon gets up and walks over to me.

"I think it's time that you get to bed now," I nod.

It was like a scene out of a movie where I play the daughter, Daddy's little angel, and Damon plays the father. He walked me in to his room, pulled back the covers on his bed and tucked me in. He placed a kiss on my forehead and walked over to where a chair was placed by the door. He sat down and leaned back like he was going to tell me a bed time story. But of course he didn't. Because I am not his daughter and he is not my father. And none of this feels right at all. It feels wrong to be in this bed, it's too big for one person. There was too much room to move around in. It felt cold and lonely, empty.

Damon just watched me with a somber expression, and I watched him until the tiredness in my eyelids made them too heavy to keep open anymore.

Bonny POV:

Damon came down the stairs and looked at me expectantly.

"Where's Dessire?" I asked.

"In bed, asleep. We need to do it tonight. She's starting to feel sick, and the sooner we do it the better."

"I don't know if I can," I hiss back at him.

"What do you mean you don't know?" he spat at me.

"I mean, I haven't worked out all the kinks yet."

"It's written out for you in that book, You said you found a spell, now why can't you do it?"

"Look, I've never done a spell with someone so young, I'm scared that I'll mess up." I look down. Damon makes me nervous. Everything about this makes me nervous and sick. I thought that I couldn't despise Klaus anymore, but then he goes and proves me wrong by ruining another life full of potential. I just wish that I could know why, why someone so young, why at all?

_Why can't Grams be here? _ She'd know what to do.

He takes a few steps closer and looks directly at me with a hard expression.

"We'll don't let your fear get in the way of saving her life."

Damon POV:

I looked at her small, still body frozen in sleep. I wish I could say it was a peaceful sleep, but I doubt images of puppies and bunnies are running through her head right now if she's even dreaming at all. I hear someone in the door way and I turn to see Elena.  
"Hey, are you okay?" she asks in a frail voice.

I suck in a breath through pursed lips. What a fucking stupid question. Is she really that ignorant?

"There is a dyeing 12 year old in my bed right now, Elena. It's not exactly the ideal way to spend a Saturday night.

"And what exactly is, Damon? Spending all night at the bar with Alaric?" she said in a defensive tone.

A bitter laugh escapes my lips.

"Actually, yes Elena. That is it exactly. You want to know why? Because alcohol helps you forget. And right now, I would like to forget all of this. I'm partly responsible for this," I practically shout, pointing at Dessire in the bed.

"_I feel responsible for Dessire being bitten, Elena." _She shuts up and looks down.

"I'm sorry, please just leave." I say, my tone much softer.

Dessire POV

I shoot out of the bed and into the bathroom, and a split second later Damon is there, holding back my hair as I project vile, crimson liquid into the toilet. When I'm done, I wash my hands in the sink and wipe my lips so that they are free of the substance. Damon gets some rubbing alcohol and cotton to clean the bite. He brushes a wet swab against my neck then dries it with a paper towel. He grabs a bandage and smooths the adhesive against my skin with his thumbs.

"Wait," I say abrubtly, my brows furrowing in confusion. I press two fingers against Damon's cool, marble like neck and another two up against mine which feels like it's been heated on the stove.

"You're really, really cold," I say.

"No, you're just really, really hot." He said. Grabbing a thermometer off of the counter, he swipes it in my ear.

"110 degrees to be exact," he said, gazing at the tiny little screen.

"You okay?" he looks up at me, brows furrowed in concern.

"Umm, yeah. I just, I keep going back to that night. And It's like I'm trapped in this calm daze, I can't wake up. I can just watch it play over and over again like movie. This horrible, cruel movie. And I saw his icy blue eyes and it just gave me this horrible feeling like I was going to vomit. Well, I _did _vomit."

I looked up at his kind gaze and whispered, "I'd much rather look at your blue eyes."

_What the fuck is the matter with me? _

I can't think things like that much less say things like that because it's never going to happen.

But he doesn't say anything, he just takes me back to the bed. He tosses aside the pillow soaked in my damp sweat and climbs onto the mattress. Without warning, he pulls me up against his chest. It's nice and cool against my tee-shirt, and I instantly feel a little better.

"Damon, what are you doing?" I ask.

"Shh," He brushes my lips with his finger. "You'll see."

"Seriously Damon, What are you doing?" I ask.

"Just go to sleep." He says in a hushed tone, caressing my shoulders, trying to soothe me into rest. And why argue? I certainly didn't have any negative thoughts on the situation. So I closed my eyes, leaned into Damon's chest and let my head fall back on his shoulder.

_I was sitting on the dark forest floor, leaning against the trunk of a tree. I looked up at the trees surrounding me. It was beautiful. Deep, crimson leaves decorated the branches. The color was flawless, and looked like it could be painted on, but it was all so real. Up through the leaves there was a clear blue sky with no clouds what so ever. A black raven perched in front of me and looked so amazing and defined with midnight ink feathers against the fallen red leaves on the ground. I turned my head for a moment and when I looked back, Damon was right where the raven had been. He looked as flawless as ever, flashed me an actual, genuine smile. Not a smirk, Damon Salvatore actually smiled at me. _

"_Now you can look at my blue eyes all you want,"_

_I gape at him._

"_Did you- Did you do this?!"_

_He nodded._

"_Got inside your head. It wasn't that hard to do. Ohh, that reminds me. That's another thing vampires can do."_

_He shot me a smug look._

_I narrow my eyes at him and return his smile. _

"_Don't get too cocky."_

_We talked for hours. It started with small talk, some of Damon's usual smug remarks and my comebacks. But then he started to tell me about what has happened over the past few years, about Ripper Stefan and Elena and Katherine and Klaus and everything else. I was surprised that he was comfortable confiding in me like this. It was nice. _

"_God, I'm telling you more than I've ever told anyone else in all my 167 years. And you're listening. And the thing is, you're not judging. It's nice for once for someone to know everything besides just the mistakes so that they don't get stuck on those." He let out a laugh._

"_I'm sorry, you have enough of your own problems to worry about. I shouldn't dump this all on you." He said looking up at me._

"_No, it's fine. I like to listen to your problems. It kind of make me feel, well, significant." I let out one of my own small bitter laughs. _

"_What do you mean?" he looks worried all of a sudden._

_I lower my gaze._

"_You said it yourself. I don't have anyone."_

_He put his thumb gently on my chin and lifts my head up so that my gaze is level with his._

"_You have me." He says in a deep, genuine tone. The words had a major impact and weighed down on me, over powering any other thought. _

Damon POV:

I sighed and reached into my jean pocket. I pulled out the needle and watched as it sunk into the soft, delicate skin over her shoulder and slowly pushed the syringe down, injecting her with the clear liquid.

A/N: So, you must be wondering why the fuck Damon shot her up with vervain. I would love to hear about it in the reviews… :)


	9. Not Chapter 9

Sorry if I got anyone excited for a new chapter, lol. The link to my Polyvore which has tons of collages that you should feel free to look at i on my profile. About a third of them are TVD or my lovely Ian, but the most recent one is the banner for my story. Many more chapters and collages to come, as always thank you and happy fangirling/ vampire admiring/ daydreaming of the flawless Mr. Somerhalder, Joseph Morgan, Steven R. Mcqueen, Paul wesley, or Nate (I had to google that one, though I do adore Kol) or whoever the Hell your guilty pleasure may be. ;)

:F (okay, my friend from school says that this is a vampire emoticon, Just wanted to try in out, I don't think it feels right.)

Lol, anywayz, the please go check out the link, it would mean allot and I would highly appreciate it :D


	10. Bound (Okay, this is chapter 9)

A/N: The past few weeks have been really shitty and really, really confusing. So I apologize for the extreme delay, I've been busy with other matters. But here it is, the _real_ chapter nine. Sorry this sucks, I'm writing this in an extremely bad mood.

Back to the story though. It feels great when I get on after every chapter. There are always a few new followers and favorites, but hardly any reviews. So if you guys are reading this, please, please, please, review. Thank you so much to Tvdlover87654 for the awesome reviews every chapter, it means so much to me to read them and I really appreciate it. I have a really awesome story line planned out that I want for you guys to be able to read, but if I don't get that many reviews I might stop writing. So I beg of you, _please _review.

P.S. Avril Lavigne is my favorite artist (Favorite song by her: nobody's home) and there is a collage for this chapter on my Polyvore including Dessire's outfit, ring, and I-Pod.

Dessire POV:

There was a sudden change in scenery, and the forest faded out. Damon was gone. The tree's crumbled like an old concrete foundation and the leaves fell from the braches, disintegrating to ash before they reached the ground. The bright blue sky darkened and I was engulfed in empty black. I screamed for Damon, stumbled around searching for something, anything. At the edge of my conscious I could feel a burning in my veins, like they were pulsing with acid.

Damon POV:

I carried her down stairs where Bonny and Elena were waiting and put her down on the couch. I knew how this was going to work, and I was willing to do it for Dessire. I just hoped that Elena and Bonny weren't going to screw it up.

On the table in front of them is a grimoire open to a page covered in strange symbols and sketching's; words scribbled in black ink, written in ancient long dead languages. Bonny's a fast learner, she has to be to memorize chants in tongue and be able to recite them with someone's life on the line. I don't know what we'd do without a witch, but I'd never say it out loud.

"You ready?" Her curls bounce with her one single, hard nod.

"Good." I pause before continuing, making sure that I have the girls' attention.

"The minute you are done with this spell, Bonny-"

"Yeah, we know the plan Damon. You don't have to repeat it." Elena interrupts.

"Well I'm going to say it again because the two of you have a habit of letting your _emotions _get in the way." The word emotions rolls off my tongue with a certain loathing quality to it.

They both know it's true, and Elena surrenders, letting me finish.

"The minute Bonny is done with the spell, you, her, and Caroline get your asses out that door and go to the address I gave you. You don't stop until you get there. Now promise me you won't screw this up, for mine and Dessire's sake." I direct my words at Elena, we all know I'm talking more to her.

"I understand, I swear." She says, her gaze low, nervous with the attention focused on her.

"Okay, let's get started." Bonny said, trying to ease the tension with little success.

We sat down, and I could feel the awkward mood hang over the room like a wet paper towel, making the very air humid, sticky and uncomfortable. The stench of sulfur filled my nostrils as Elena stroke a match and lit the five candles scattered on both edges of the table. The flames flickered with a warm low warm yellow glow that clung to the worn faces around me in the dim atmosphere.

Bonny took a small pocket knife that had been sitting by the grimoire and pressed the smooth silver edge to Dessire's skin and drew straight down. A few drops of the crimson liquid fell upon the ancient, disintegrating pages of the grimoire. I drew her small sickly colored arm up to my mouth and slowly drank in her toxic, venom-spiked life essence. Her feverish skin burned against the side of my cheek. Her pulse was made off small, quick dips, in rhythm with her shallow breathing.

Then Bonny took hold of my other hand and sliced the palm. She led it up to Dessire's parted, dry lips and I could feel the blood seep out of me. I had heard Bonny call this a circle of essence. My energy was flowing into her, my strength and health, while the toxins in Dessire (the hybrid venom) were flowing into me. Since we had a strong emotional connection, the circle was supposed to be stronger. To me, it sounded like a bunch of hippy-dippy rambling, but I was willing to try anything. Now Bonny had to tie and break the circle with a spell, and we would be bound by blood.

Bonny place her hands on the table and began to chant. I closed my eyes and tried to focus with the new burning sensation pulsing through me. A tremor ran through me, staring where my hand touched Dessire's lips, and stopping at the tip of my tongue pressed against the puncture wound on her wrist.

Bonny POV:

I release the tense muscles in my arms leading to fingers that fiercely gripped the edge of the wooden table. I open my eyes, heavy breathes entering and leaving my lungs. But no wave of relief washed over me, not yet. There was still a tightness in my chest, I didn't know if it had worked.

Blue-Purple veins became apparent just below Damon's skin , starting at the corners of his mouth and leading past the bit of stubble on his chin and down along his neck, disappearing at the collar of his shirt. They seemed to pulse in rhythm not with his breathing, but with each swallow of blood. I look over at Dess; her skin is slowly regaining a more lively color, shifting from a transparent, papery white to a natural beige. And her cheeks turn from flushed to a rosy blush from the pure blood entering her system.

Damon takes notice of my stopping. He lets Dessire's arm drop to the cushion and raises his gaze to me.

"Did it work?" he asks in a low voice.

"I think so," I nod.

He glances at his phone for the time.

"You have about 40 minutes before the vervain wears off and she wakes up. You better leave now. And Dess can be a little…" he pauses, as if searching for the right words.

"Stubborn and Impulsive." He finally settles on.

"Hmm. Stubborn and Impulsive, I wonder where she picked those traits up from." I attempt a small smile. Damon gives me a hard look, as if to say that this is a serious matter that shouldn't be joked about.

"Relax, Damon. I've baby sat five toddlers while dog-sitting for two great danes at the same time. I've got this."

"Have you ever babysat a 12 year old vampire?" he asks. Then quickly adds "And don't let her hear you say that. You'd make her murderous. She can't stand being treated like a child. And believe me, she is allot more mature than you'd be led to believe."

Elena answers for me.

"Damon, we can handle it. Besides, we'll have Caroline with us."

" Vampire Barbie," Damon sighs.

"Hey, it was your suggestion," I remind him.

"Yeah, I know. Klaus is obsessed with the girl. She'll serve as a great distraction. And she's way better at getting things done than you two when she's not off having sex with her wolfy boyfriend."

Elena rolls her eyes and pulls me by the wrist out the door before I can respond.

Damon POV:

"Where are you going?" I ask incredulously.

They turn mid step to look at me, agitated.

"Forgetting something?" I hint, their questioning gazes making it apparent that they're clueless.

"Oh my god," Bonny starts, realization smacking her in the face.

I watch as she walks over and picks up Dessire with surprising ease.

Dessire POV:

My head rolls to the side and my cheek hits warm glass. I open my eyes and blink back a bright glare in my eyes.

Sunlight.

I bolt up in the leather seat that I'm buckled into and look around. Bonny's in the passenger seat, Elena's sitting next to me in the back, and driving is a girl with blonde curls full of volume framing light skin. She's wearing a low cut, navy blue sundress that shows some major cleavage.

"Good Morning," she says with a light hearted voice full of pep, turning to face me. She flashes me a grin revealing perfectly white teeth.

"Yeah, _morning_," I mimick, my voice heavy with confusion and wonder.

"Ohh, that. Bonny made you a ring." I look down at my hand, and sure enough, on my hand is a small silver ring with a round, deep blue, lapis lazuli stone on it.

"And Damon asked me to give you this." She hands me a thin, deep purple, smooth I Pod with white ear buds already in place.

I reach for it and stare at the dark screen for a minute.

"Wait, what's going on? Who_ are_ you?" I ask, snapping out of my daze.

"This is Caroline," Elena says.

"So you're this Vampire Barbie that I keep hearing about, the name suits you," I say, an amused smile crossing my lips seeing her cheeks redden with embarrassment and anger at the comment.

"I really wish Damon would drop that nick name already." She said, her tone annoyed.

After a few minutes of silence I add, "So… what about the second half of that question?"

The girls exchange heated, nervous glances.

"Well?" I ask, beginning to become irritated with the three of them.

Caroline takes in a breathe, then, in an uneasy tone begans, "Bonnny did a spell that put the hybrid venom from your bite into Damon's body."

My hand raises to my neck, and I came into contact with smooth, bite-free skin.

"What?! So are we just gonna leave him there to die? Where the fuck are we going?"

My wrist burns where Elena places down a gentle hand to try and calm me.

" The only reason we did it is to buy us some time. Damon's older, stonger, healthier. He can endure more than you. If we had just sat around and waited, you might already be dead. I know you don't like to hear it, but you're weak, Dessire. At least with Damon we know we have a little while, at least a few more days."

I try to process the words, take in a shaky breathe.

"Buy time for what?"

This time it was Bony who spoke.

"To find Klaus."

The mere mention of his name sets me off. I freeze. Then the emotional tension built up inside of me becomes too much to bear.

" This is beyond unfair. This is just fucking wrong. Why do I have to come with you? And why did It have to be Damon?! Why couldn't it have been one of you? Why not Caroline? Tell me that, because from what I hear all you people do is take advantage of him. Especially you, Elena." I turn my rage on her. Her cheeks flush under my hateful gaze.

"You're just a selfish bitch who likes to use Damon as your rock, your back up for when that perfect, good brother of his isn't available. You have all just come to expect him to come in and save the day and it's so fucked up. You don't even realize what you're putting him through, do you? You're making him relive the same thing that happened with Katherine. But just like then,_ it's always going to be Stefan_." I say the words with an acidic quality. They all looked shocked equally with my outburst and my knowledge of Damon's past.

"He deserves so much better than all of you. But now, you've better get some blood from that sadistic hybrid original vampire. And if you fail to, then I swear, I will kill you all without hesitation." I finfish with disgust before putting in my earbuds and turning the MP3 up to full blast, facing out the window and watching the tall roadside grasses blurring past, blocking out the rest of the world.

Damon POV:

Jeremy comes bursting in through the front door. Great, time to deal with baby Gilbert.

"Is my sister here?" He asked.

I roll my head back on the couch cushion. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"Damon, I don't have time to deal with your crap. She said she'd be here."

I laugh. "Well she sure does a hella good job at keeping you out of the loop."

"Yeah, I guesse so." He turns to leave.

"Hey Jerr, your sisters worried about you. She thinks you might be dealing again."

He scoffs. "Elena talks to _you _about _me_?"

"Are you?" I already know the answer. Elena found a bag of pot under his matress yesterday. I just want to see if he'll fess up.

Jeremy ignores me and walks out the door without another word.

Dess POV:

The first song on the playlist is "Smile" by Avril Lavigne. I smirk at both the irony of the song itself considering my own horrible mood and at the fact that Damon remembered. Sometime during the dream he gave me we started talking about music. That is something that I remember from my past for some reason. I look through the songs. More Avril, Paramore, Evanescence, Skylar Grey, Christina Perri, P!nk, all of my favorite artists, songs, and bands.

My train of thought is interrupted by a burning emptiness in my stomach, an aching in my gums and dry throat.

I take out the earbuds and cock my head at Care.

"I'm hungry."

"I told you to get something 20 miles ago. You could have easily taken a quick nibble at that druggie cahier at the gas stop. There was no else there but us."

"And like I told you then, crack heads aren't very appetizing."

"Yeah, well you're just gonna have to wait."

"Caroline, Elena's neck is in danger of being bitten right now." I threaten lightly.

I could feel her shift uncomfortably in the seat next to me.

"Caroline, I suggest you pull over," Bonny says carefully.

A/N: Okay, I know that left off on a strange note, sorry, I had to cut it off so that I can update. Hopefully, with fall break providing an escape from school I might actually write a good chapter. And don't worry, now that Care has been introduced there will be some fun scenes with her, includeing a shopping trip between her, Dess, and Damon.


	11. Cold Confrontation

Dessire POV:

"She's bluffing," Caroline replied, but doubt showed through her voice.

"Am I?" I challenge. Then, in a split second, I extend my fangs, open my mouth as wide as my Jaw will allow, curling my lip back. I grab Elena by the shoulders and lean over so that I'm less than half an inch from the tender skin on her neck, tempting. My thoughts immediately flash to Damon, if I had tried anything similar with him around, I would be locked in the basement before I even had the time to realize my mistake.

"Caroline!" the urgent plea comes from two mouths simultaneously. From Elena, it's a high-pitched shriek, from Bonny it's a strong demand.

I'm jerked back to the seat when the car jolts to a stop, the breaks strained, squealing under the pressure of the toe of Caroline's Nordstrom boots.

"Thank You," I say, getting out of the car.

"I'll come with you," Bonny offers.

"I don't need a chaperone to catch and drain a prairie dog." I say in a hard tone, not turning back, continuing to walk farther out on the dirt roadside. I want, desperately to find something besides rock-hard dirt and weeds. Some color, a tree, a small lake, a patch of flowers, anything. It feels like forever since I've seen things in the sun, and this out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere scenery is very disappointing.

I sigh, finding nothing but desolate arid desert. Where the hell are we? We've only been on the road for 2 hours. Then again, I have absolutely no idea how long I was out. Apparently, they had to vervain me because I wouldn't have been "cooperative". Damn right I wouldn't have.

God, the dryness in my throat is killing me! The whole inside of my mouth feels as if it's made of splintering wood. I take a gulp of hot, stifilling air that's full of individual grains of sand and scan the ground for a field mouse. At this point, I would eat anything.

Nothing. There is no fucking living thing here.

I hear something land behind me. I shoot around.

There perched on the ground is a small black bird, a raven. I think of Damon and the dream. It's not as beautiful, sleek and flawless. It's feathers are caked in dirt, they don't reflect rainbow off of a pure midnight black, and it's not as large. It's small, the size of my hand, like it's starved of food, and out here I can see why. But still, as I stare at it, despite the lack of resemblance, I can't help picturing myself plunging my teeth into Damon.

All of that is irrelevant right now. I _need_ blood, NOW.

The bird gazes at me with black beady eyes full of curiosity as to my presence. The scorching sun reflects out of them and I can see the silhouette of my body there too. It's little head twitches as I slowly move closer, careful not to scare it off. Then it's beak begins to open, a silence shattering screech escaping in harmony with the heavy brushing sound of extended wings as it flies up into the open air, leaving a scattering of black feathers on the cracked dirt ground. I enclose it's small body in both my hands, restraining it's wings. It tears at my hands with it's beak and small puddles of blood form and disappear on my skin. A low growl comes from deep inside my own throat, surprising myself. I bite my lip and stare at the animal, my _prey_. Then I pull it up to my mouth in one quick swoop of my arms and devour the liquid inside. When the screeching of the bird is silenced, I pull back.

Dead. It's Dead.

I dismiss the thought and drop it without looking to see where it lands. I want to bury it, scour the ground for a large stone to mark its resting spot, maybe even place a few purple buds from the sticker weeds everywhere over the spot. And I hate it. I fucking hate that feeling, that need for closure. For God's sake, it's just a fucking bird, not a dead infant.

I take a breathe and squeeze my eyes shut, clearing my head. Then I trudge back to the car. Lately it feels like every situation I'm in, everywhere I go I forced into it. And despite my hope, I doubt it's going to end soon.

"Hi" Caroline says in that bubbley tone of hers the minute I stoop back into the car. Once we're on this seemingly never-ending road, she picks up with the chatting again.

"So Tyler's been shopping at Abercrombie and Fitch. He's been buying this cologne called 'sexy'. Real Creative name, right? Anyways, it smells really, really bad, but he wears it every time we do it. I guess he thinks it's a turn on or something, but it's really horrible. But he like really likes it, and I just don't know how to tell him…"

I sigh, and over her obnoxiously bright voice, I mouth to Elena.

"_Does she ever stop talking?" _

She makes a face that clearly states she doesn't.

I shake my head and put in my earbuds. Seconds later I get a text from Elena

_She's really not that shallow. Really. At least she's happy in the midst of all of this. Or maybe she just acts like it to convince herself. I don't blame her. _

I put the phone back into my pocket and go back to staring out the window.

The lyrics and minor key piano of "Innocence" lull me into a daze.

_This innocence is brilliant,_

_I hope that it will stay._

_This moment Is perfect,_

_Please don't go away._

_I need you now,_

_And I'll hold on to it,_

_Please don't let It pass you by._

_It's the state of bliss,_

_You think you're dreaming._

_It's so beautiful it makes you wanna cry._

Innocence. A word that I'll never know.

Fuck, I need to stop with the self-pity party.

For another 40 minutes, the scenery is unchanging. Dirt, Dirt, Grey Sky, and more Dirty. So when the sky darkens to a deep blue and the clouds began to shift, I perk up in my seat.

Bonny takes notice and turns around in her seat. With wide, mocking eyes, nodding, she says,

"Yeah, Rain,"

I ignore her and watch the transparent drops pelt the windows, creating a soft drumming. The last time I saw rain was,

Was,

The night _he _ruined my life.

I laugh at myself, how stupid my mental thoughts are. How I refuse to say his name like he's Voldemort.

Never mind.

It's funny how the littlest things in life make me extremely pleased.

"Does this car have a sky window?" I quickly shoot the question at Caroline.

"Yeah, Why? Do you-"

I don't wait for her to finish, I stand up, invading Elena's space a little, and press the button that pulls back the glass. I pull myself up so that I'm standing on the console, and prop my arms on the top of the car. The pouring rain already has me soaked, my hair flat and clinging to my skin. It's soft spray relaxes me and calms my nerves as to going where we're going. For a moment, I forget everything, like the rain could possibly carry away my problems, my whole life with it as it showers upon me, trickles rolling down my face, my neck. I close my eyes and tilt my head up towards the dark sky and pretend I'm somewhere else. In the forest, mine and Damon's, the ground dark and soft with soaked soil and the leaves deepening if even possible in color, a velvety shelter where I could just lie down and sleep forever.

Irritated voices break my trance

"I just bought this jacket," Bonny whines.

"It's not even supposed to be washed, I have to take it to the dry cleaners."

"Dessire, what are you doing? You could get struck by lightning!" Caroline tugs at my jeans with the hand not steering the wheel.

I roll my eyes.

"And? It's not like it would kill me" I shout into the open sky.

"Just get down, you're messing up my driving _and_ getting my leather seats wet!"

"Fine." I say, and climb down, closing the small opening.

"Hey, Care," Bonny says.

"Look, pull right up here. Is that the place?"

We pull up next to a mail box with one of those "Welcome" signs that you see allot in the country side nailed to the post, Black loopy cursive letters painted on a light blue faded decoupage piece of wood.

Caroline hands Bonny a small flashlight on her keychain.

She shines it through the rain and scans the address on the mailbox.

"542 Oakland Ave." Bony reads aloud.

Caroline quickly scans a strip of paper that she pulled from her pocket.

"Yep," she says, nervousness that she attempts, unsuccessfully, to bury under her voice.

My breathe catches.

A/N: Short and a little boring, I know. Transition chapter. Hmm, every update I seem to be apologizing for quality, lol. Anyways, I'll most likely update again this week, but no promises.


	12. Hiatus

Heeeyyyyyy, long time no update.

I've been busy with life, not much time to write. I have a new chapter started and a whole (wonderful) story line that I've had planned out to the last detail since the moment when I started this. Unfortuenately, I need a break. Don't worry, I'm not giving up, just taking a hiatus. I fear if I don't want to write something, it won't be as good quality. Sorry for the wait, but in the meantime, I'm currently working on a new story inspired by the song "Home" by Phil Phillips. I would really appreciate if you took a look and left a review! :D Once I get that story started off smoothly and I have a few followers/reviews, I'll get back to this one.


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